


Believe In Me

by prophet_of_troy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Vernon Dursley, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Love/Hate, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Petunia isn't nice, Protective Petunia, Protective Severus Snape, Severus Snape Has a Heart, and that's okay, but neither is Severus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prophet_of_troy/pseuds/prophet_of_troy
Summary: Severus should have known better than to listen to Lucius, but he didn't. Now he's stuck with this Mark, and a girl he can't seem to avoid. Maybe if he can't get rid of her, he can save her. But you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.
Relationships: Petunia Evans Dursley/Severus Snape
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	Believe In Me

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he thought to himself as he stared at his arm. He had known they weren't the 'good guys' in this impending war that was descending upon the Wizarding World, but that had mattered little given the fact that they were the only ones who ever treated him like a fellow human being. They cared about his opinion of things, seemed to find him interesting, and actively sought him out for discussions. But, after tonight, after seeing the monstrous light in their eyes at the prospect of torturing someone- Muggle or no- he decided that perhaps that wasn't a good thing. And what did that say about him, about his character, if these were the only ones accepting of him? If everyone else insisted upon grouping him with them?

Looking down at the grotesque image on his forearm, that writhing thing that seemed to be an outward tell of this black imperfection he felt marring his soul, he knew _exactly_ what it said of his character. How apt that it should be called the 'Dark Mark'. It had been the worst pain he had ever felt, both physical and mental- the so called Dark Lord forcing his way into Severus' mind with a sharp, unyielding pain that lingered even now. What had he done?

Maybe the self proclaimed 'Marauders' had a point, if _this_ is what he had let Lucius lead him into. That wasn't fair, to blame his fellow Slytherins and now fellow Death Eaters- though he shivered at the term. They may have led him to the Dark Lord, but he had let them.

What would Lily say? He flinched at the thought. She hadn't said anything to him since fifth year when he called her that stupid word. She'd looked at him- glanced from her new found place at Potter's side, each time with a betrayed heartbroken look that made him hate himself all over again. Then, Potter stood up in front of the entire school at their last Leaving Feast and asked her to marry him. He was sure he'd never hated anyone so much as he hated Potter in that moment. Then Lily, his sweet Lily, said yes. And he hated her too.

He rubbed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes, trying to grind away the image of the poor Muggle girl being raped and tortured by those he might have once called friends. That was before their Master announced what was to be their entertainment for the night. He had still felt sick from being Marked, and every one else had this evil gleam lighting a fire in their eyes. No amount of pressure on his eyes burned away what he'd seen. No volume of music or television drowned out the screams he still heard ringing in his ears. Nothing could take away from this immense loathing he felt at himself. At Lucius and the Slytherins. At Dumbledore and the Marauders. At the world.

Severus shot out of his chair and bolted from the house, not sure where he was going until he got there. This had been _their_ place, equal distance between both of their houses. She hadn't come, that he could tell, since fifth year. But he had come every day that summer. He had stood in the pouring rain and the killing damned heat. But she never came. So why was he here now?

Around the tree, their tree that they'd climb together, he heard a noise and almost called her name- but he knew she'd leave and he was desperate to get even a glance at her. It didn't matter, it wasn't her anyway. It was her sister; her long dark hair and long horse-like neck hard to mistake for anyone else.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded harshly. Didn't she understand this was _their_ place?

The girl jumped, whirling around automatically on the defensive. “I can be anywhere I want, _Snape_!”

He almost made a comment, bring up her desperate attempts to follow them to Hogwarts. He wanted- needed- to see the pain in her eyes that he felt in his heart. But when she turned around, he already saw the pain there, hidden not too well behind the red from recent tears- and he stopped. She held her left arm tightly and he vaguely thought about his own. Maybe she'd broken it.

But he saw the familiar purple stain of a bruise that seemed to be climbing her skin, and he pulled her arm to look at it. It was in the shape of a beefy hand, too big to be anyone's he knew. Except that whale of a person Lily said her sister had been courting. Victor?

“Did Victor do this?” He asked, somewhere in his mind replacing her with the abuse his mother had been forced to suffer.

Something flickered in her eyes and he had his answer, but she jerked her arm back. “ _Vernon_ loves me, _freak_. He'd never do anything to hurt me.”

“Really?” He sneered. “Because your arm tells an entirely different story. A man should never raise his hand to woman.”

Petunia glared. “Accidents happen. And don't give _me_ that high and mighty speech. We all heard about what you said to Lily!”

Like a switch, he didn't care anymore and she was back to being Lily's insufferable sister. “Fine,” he snarled. “It means nothing to me if he kills you! But, remember, it was _only_ an 'accident'.”

He stormed off towards his house, and her to hers, and he'd forgotten what he came to forget.  
  
*  
  
It had been a week since his encounter with Petunia Evans. A week since he'd made his final decision about his allegiance. A week of making excuses and avoiding the other Death Eaters. It had been a very lonely week, even if he would never say so. That still didn't excuse him as he stood near the front door, coat on and glaring at the door knob as if it had personally offended him. He kept telling himself that there was no way Petunia would be there again, and Lily definitely wouldn't be. It was a place he could be alone. He told himself that the Bruise Paste in his pocket was for emergencies- just a handy thing to have on him- and _not_ for that stupid Muggle girl.

Finally, after another reprimand to his person, he grabbed the door knob and yanked the door open to make the walk to the park. It was good, he told himself, that she wasn't there. He could think to himself in peace. Thinking, though, was rather boring here in this grassy area alone with no sound but the whistling wind. So he had made up his mind to go home, when her voice cut through the breeze.

She was walking up the hill to the tree, her hair blown in the wind around her face and her arms crossed to shield herself from the chill. Typical, useless Muggle- not wearing a jumper in this weather. “Still waiting here for her? She's not coming, and you're just being pathetic now.”

His nostrils flared at the slight. “I'm not waiting for anyone,” he insisted. “Especially not for the likes of _her._ Can't someone come here to get some peace and quiet? Or do you just ruin everything?”

“ _You're_ the one here after seeing me come to the park. If you were so hard-pressed for being alone, might you try the library or your own home? No one asked you to be here.”

Her arm was still bruised, but there was a new one peeking under her shirt on her shoulder. And she was calling _him_ pathetic? Severus glared, digging into his deep pockets for the Bruise Paste and throwing it lightly at her face. It was a pity she caught it.

“Cover yourself up, will you?” He scoffed. “It's disgusting.”

He walked off, in a slower stride than the last time. _Damn her_ , he thought to himself. _That was for emergencies_.

Lucius was waiting for him when he returned home, a pinched look on his face and looking around with an expression of repulsion. He tried to hide it when he saw Severus approach.

“Severus,” he drawled. “I heard you've been sick.”

Dragon Pox, was the exact excuse he gave Mulciber. “Yes. Today is the first day I've felt myself this week so I thought I'd take a stroll. Won't you come in?”

Lucius' nose wrinkled further. “That won't be necessary,” he said. “Cissa just wanted to be sure you weren't too sick to attend her annual Christmas party. I hear it's going to be even grander than last year's.”

Severus forced a smile. “Please assure her that I wouldn't miss it.”

“She'll expect you to bring a date, Severus. Remember what happened the year before last when she tried to set you up with that friend of hers. I doubt Merlin himself could stop her from trying again if you come alone. It's time you get over that redheaded Mudblood once and for all.”

There was a warning tone to his voice and that sentence that Severus forced himself not to react to. “I was a fool,” he said. “Rest assured, the chit means nothing to me anymore.”

Lucius' lips twisted into a small smirk of satisfaction and he tipped his head ever so slightly. “Very well. I shall try to restrain Narcissa come time, but it would still do you good to bring someone.”

He turned around gracefully and straightened his robes in a swift and officious motion Severus had seen the blonde's sire make and walked off. Severus waited until he heard the crack of Apparition before going into his house. Yes, it was time for him to forget about Lily. She was, after all, meant to marry Potter the next summer. He would not allow himself to pine. It was beneath him. Especially for one who obviously cared nothing for him. What did Petunia call it? Pathetic?

Well that made two of them.  
  
*  
  
“Don't you ever get tired of stalking me?” She asked imperiously, her nose turned up, her hair hidden under a bright red beret and her cheeks and nose a shade of pink from the cold. At least she was wearing a coat this time.

“If I was stalking you,” he said, “You wouldn't know it until it was too late, I promise.”

She scoffed. “Like you would do anything. You're all talk, Snape.”

“And you?” He asked. “I remember you writing letters to the headmaster, _begging_ to be accepted into Hogwarts. What you be able to do there with no magic? I suppose you could have been a target. Everyone needs _something_ to practice on, and I'm sure you'd scream so well when they hexed off your _head_.”

He wasn't sure there was actually a spell or curse to do that, but it gave him the reaction he wanted- the pale pink darkening into a bright red to match her hat. Her lips pursed and she stomped over to him, shoving him hard with both hands. She was somewhat pretty, he thought, when she was really angry. Though, not the same way as Lily. Lily looked like a defending heroine when she was angry. Petunia looked something of a harpy.

“Why don't you go run off to your freaky little friends? Don't you have someone to torture with something that _isn't_ your presence?”

Severus pulled his wand from his sleeve, making a short crackle of magic form at the tip with a sinister smile. “As a matter of fact....”

He wasn't going to do anything, but she didn't have to know that. She shoved him again, her eyes narrowing. “You, you, Death Eater!”

She had to have heard that term from Lily, and he wasn't sure what made him more angry- Lily saying it, or her sister repeating it most likely without the knowledge of what it actually was. He harshly grabbed her wrists and twisting them away from him. Her eyes widened with a touch of fear that he felt sick for taking pleasure in.

“Don't. Call. Me. That.”

Petunia struggled to get her hands away from him, rubbing them absently when she did. And he watched her leave hurriedly, looking back with a scared face that made him agree with her.

Death Eater.   
  
*  
  
He knew he shouldn't have come, called Lucius and made some excuse about being sick again, but it was too late. He and his date had already been spotted by the hostess who was making her way towards them with purpose.

“Severus! I'm so glad you could make it, and who is this?” They really had outdone themselves this year, from the twinkling lights strung up around the ballroom to the sparkling crystal glasses waiting for guests to drink from. Holly intertwined with the lights, the green vines wrapping down around the columns. Narcissa looked elegant, the perfect hostess in her green gown- cut in a way that called for Lucius' possessive arm around her.

He had brought Pandora Lysander, a dreamy Ravenclaw he would sometimes study for Potions with. She was the only one he could think of that they would maybe accept and wouldn't expect anything out of him afterwards- her heart belonged to someone else just as much as his did. Her long blonde hair was up in some sort of twist and she wore a long gold evening gown that looked very twenties. She had that timeless beauty that women like Cissa strove for, but never quite achieved.

“This is a very good friend of mine,” he said. “Pandora. Pan, this is Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, our hosts for the evening.”

She blinked her deep, jewel blue eyes at them and gave a serene smile. “Hello. You have a lovely home.”

Narcissa preened under the praise and gave Severus an approving look, steering Pandora away to discuss such things. He was glad that she liked his choice and therefore was unlikely to try and push him with some airhead of her choosing, but that left him with her husband.

“Our friend,” Lucius said, not needing to elaborate on who, “wishes to have a word with you.”

Severus looked over to Pandora, following Narcissa's expressive hands as they discussed something about the chandelier. Lucius saw him looking. “Don't worry. I'm sure your date can last a few moments without you.”

He didn't want to go, but he followed him anyway down a long corridor and to a large library- what had been the pride and joy of Lucius' mother, Adelaide. _He_ was there. Severus could tell from the moment he stepped into the room and felt the temperature drop ten degrees. He was poised at a book shelf, one of hundreds, with a dusty volume in his hand that he was obviously just skimming through. He looked up when they walked in as if it was a surprise and not a summons. He got that from Dumbledore, Severus realized.

“Ah, Severus.” He was handsome, a young handsome man with dark curls and bright, cold eyes looking no older than thirty. Monsters weren't supposed to be handsome. “Come, sit, Lucius has been kind enough to get me a nice bottle of Ogden's from 1926. That year has special meaning for me, you see. Come in, I wanted to speak with you.”

Severus walked further into the room, looking more in control of himself than he felt. Or, at least, he _hoped_ he did. The Dark Lord motioned for him to sit as he took his own seat, then shot a look at Lucius to dismiss him. The blonde quickly, with a stiff back from fear, bowed and closed the double doors behind him. Then, the Dark Lord turned to him with a charming smile Severus was sure could outdo Sirius Black's on his best day.

“Severus, one of my newest children. I regret to say that I don't get to know each of you the way I'd like. In the old days, I knew them all. Their strengths, weaknesses, hopes and dreams, and I knew how to help them achieve such. Nowadays, we are too preoccupied with this nasty Muggle situation. Tell me about yourself.”

His mouth went dry and he resisted the urge to try and moisten it. “I'm not sure what you'd like to know, my lord.”

There was a look of approval and subtle smug satisfaction on the other man's face, as he sat back in the wing backed armchair as though it were a throne. “Lucius tells me you've an interest in Potions. That was my best subject in Hogwarts, more than Defense Against the Dark Arts if you can believe that. I liked the control it allowed. If you followed the instructions the right way, you didn't have to worry about sticky situations and surprises.”

Severus went rigid and suddenly felt hollow. There was a crescendo of what sounded like a strong current pounding in his ears before it suddenly stopped, leaving him cold and momentarily deaf. This man, this monster leading an army of monsters, had just described the reason Severus loved the subject so much. The control. It seemed the more he was with these men, these monsters loosely disguised as human beings, the harder it became to differentiate between them and him. Where did he draw the line between them? What made him different, if anything?

“My dear boy, are you alright?”

Severus felt his pulse rushing in his veins, his breath nearly coming out in pants, and if he were home he was sure he'd find his way back to the park in some secret hope Petunia would be there to argue with. He ran his tongue over his dry and cracked lips.

“Forgive me, my lord. I have only just recently gotten over being ill and I'm afraid it hasn't quite left my system yet. You've just described perfectly why I too have such a deep passion for Potions.”

“I knew I would like you, and I wanted you to know something more about me beyond some power hungry fool. You see, Severus. I'm going to make a very big request of you tonight.” Severus braced himself for whatever it could be, knowing that failure would not be accepted, but he continued. “Albus Dumbledore thinks he can undermine my cause, thinks the best thing for wizards is to cower in the shadows of the Muggle world. I need someone close to him, to give me reports on his methods- his affairs. That twit, Horace Slughorn is said to be retiring this semester. _You_ shall be his replacement.”

Severus was sure this man was insane. How could _he_ hope to fool _Dumbledore?_ The man, rumor had it, invoked fear even in the Dark Lord himself. That idea had merit, go to Dumbledore. Ask forgiveness and join him. But, the Marauders would no doubt have something to say about that. And Dumbledore would no doubt take their side. Again.

“M-My lord?”

The Dark Lord was suddenly out of his seat and walking with an imperious stride back to the bookshelf like a caged animal. “Don't you see, Severus? We're special. Wizards, are special. Why should we bow down and crawl underneath those Muggles like cockroaches? Us! When it is _them_ who are inferior. We must put an end to this. And where Gellert Grindelwald failed, I shall not.”

Severus didn't know what to say, wanting to make himself small so as not to call attention to himself. But then the cold eyes turned to him again. “Go now, Severus. I shall expect you to meet with Dumbledore by the end of next month. I will know if you do not.”

He didn't waste any time, walking calmly to the door and leaving through it- each step after the deep sound of the double doors closing becoming faster and more rushed. He had to get out of there. Pandora was at the punch bowl, looking around with a dreamy look on her face. Severus took her arm and led her back to the front entrance, his stride not faltering or slowing and she nearly had to run to keep up. But she didn't comment until they were far away from the lights, the music, the expensive elvish wine that was all a large facade to cover behind the scenes. A distraction... a charade... a mask.

“Severus?” She asked cautiously. He had apparated them to a back alley behind a Muggle building and was leaning his forehead against the coolness of the rough bricks, trying desperately to catch his breath and calm the heavy pounding of his heart. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, turning around to face her expressionless concern. “I apologize, Pan. I didn't mean to ruin the evening.”

“That's alright,” she said. “There were far too many Nargles around with all that mistletoe. Perhaps you should send your friend a warning.”

Severus laughed, feeling much better with such a simple thing. She smiled back, looking as though she wasn't sure why he was laughing so hard. He shook his head instead of explaining, and took her home. It was snowing hard by the time he returned to the dreary path that was Spinners End, trudging through the deep snow and leaving tracks behind him seven inches deep. The wind blew so hard that it wasn't until he was close that he saw a shivering, huddled mass on his doorstep.

He stopped a few feet away, not knowing who it could be. Perhaps it was Lily. The thought came unwarranted and unwanted, but without the level of heart palpitations the thought would usually bring. It sort of worried him, that maybe being with the Death Eaters was numbing him to feelings he might have once had.

“Snape? Is that you?”

It wasn't Lily, but Petunia again. He didn't realize she knew where he lived, but he supposed it couldn't be that hard to figure out. He was among the only ones still living on Spinners End after the mill closed down. It made his pulse go faster, hearing her annoying and nasally voice barging into his life outside of their brief passings in the park. Wasn't it bad enough she had ruined that place for him?

“Who else were you expecting?” He asked, sneering at the quiver in her voice. “It is, after all, _my_ house you are sitting on the stoop of. Perhaps you were expecting Vincent.”

“It's Vernon,” she corrected in a quiet voice, barely above a whisper.

“Same difference. What do you want, Tuney?”

She didn't even nag him about using that childhood nickname he knew she hated. She stood up, once again not wearing a jumper or coat, and shifted on her feet. “I-I was wondering if you had more of that cream you gave me for that bruise. I-I fell, and tomorrow's Christmas with my parents, and I don't want anyone to worry.”

He scoffed, pushing past her to open his front door that he never locked. A bubble of warmth came from it and he entered the house with Petunia behind him. “Don't insult my intelligence by lying to me,” he told her. “I don't buy that anymore than your parents would. You will tell me exactly what happened or you can turn around and leave the way you came.”

He half expected her to, looking around his dreary living room still dark despite the small fire in the fireplace. It barely lit the floor directly in front of it, casting long and gnarled shadows over her face as she thought to herself what to say.

“H-he hit me again.”

Severus already knew that, and no doubt Petunia knew he knew. “Can you not just wear long sleeves? Perhaps a turtle neck if necessary?”

She tilted her head to look at him, the shadows from the fire adjusting but not leaving. Then he realized. They weren't shadows. There was a large bruise under her left eye, slightly swollen and covered in some sort of Muggle cosmetic that did nothing to hide the dark purple and black. Severus felt anger surge through him as he guided her face closer to get a better look.

“Why do you let him do this to you?” He growled when he jerked himself away from her and her warm, but chilled, cheek. He went through to his parents old room, that he had made into a makeshift Potions lab, and turned the light switch on before looking around for more Bruise Paste. But he knew he was out. He hadn't made any since giving her that jar, too preoccupied with the upcoming Christmas Ball. But he looked anyway.

Petunia followed him into the room, hovering at the door and looking around with a fearful gaze and a hint of interest at the simmering cauldrons. “He doesn't mean to,” she said quietly. “He loves me.”

She'd said that before. He loves her. But both times sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than him, or she was simply repeated what the man himself had told her. “If he loved you, he wouldn't hurt you like this. If you loved yourself, you wouldn't let him.”

She flinched. “You don't understand.”

“No!” He burst out. “I _don't_ understand. I don't understand how a woman can fool herself so thoroughly when all the evidence in the world points to the exact opposite! How can you tell yourself he loves you, when you're coming to me for help covering up the bruises he leaves behind? As it stands, I have no Bruise Paste.”

Petunia turned her desperate, pleading eyes to him and he realized with some small surprise that they were blue. He'd never paid attention to them. They weren't the deep blue Pandora had, but a clearer icy blue that looked like water rather than sapphires. Like little puddles of rain. She was very pretty, he realized a moment after.

“Please, Severus. H-he scares me.”

“Because you've allowed him to,” Severus said, not looking away from her eyes and being startled at how strongly her gaze held on to his. “Leave him.”

She shook her head, and he was able to look away, wondering what was wrong with him. “He wouldn't let me. He intends to propose, or so he tells me.”

“Tell your sister. She's a bright witch. She'd help.”

“I know.”

But Severus knew Petunia would rather die in her situation than go to Lily; who everyone always saw as cleverer than Petunia, prettier than Petunia, more special than Petunia- Severus included. After the way Petunia had been treating her since she began Hogwarts, Lily still helping her would be the worse thing she could do. Severus understood that, knowing that to be the real reason he couldn't switch sides. He knew they would take him. But his pride was too hard to swallow for him to try.

Severus glanced back to the shelf. He had enough Murtlap Essence and arnica root. It would use up the last of his fluxweed, but he supposed he should make a trip to Diagon Alley soon anyway. He understood her refusal to go to her sister, and in some strange way, he was glad it was him she needed. It felt nice to be needed.

“I can make another batch,” he said. “But it will take a few hours so you'll have to stay. I don't expect to make this a habit, it's an expensive and difficult thing to brew.”

Actually, it was one of the easiest and cheapest. It was just unpleasant. Severus gathered the ingredients around his work space and set to work. Petunia hesitantly came in away from the door and sat down on a stool near him.

“You could still leave him,” Severus said after a few moments, the awkward silence having set over them in a sticky film. “Whether you go to someone for help or not, why can't you just leave?”

“I'm scared,” she said again in a small voice. “He's perfectly fine, until he loses his temper. Then, sometimes, I'm afraid he'll kill me.”

He paused in the grinding of the arnica root, looking up at her in alarm. It was strange. They'd hated each other since they were nine, having met that day in the park. Lily had just done incredible accidental magic and he stepped out from watching the girls play. Petunia had called Lily a freak, and run off upon seeing him. They'd bickered with each other since, though he saw more and more of Lily over the following years- and less and less of Petunia. But he didn't want her dead. The thought made him sick. But, wasn't that what the Dark Lord wanted of all Muggles?

“I could help you,” he said before he could think better of it.

She scoffed lightly, but her voice sounded sadder than he thought she meant it to. “You hate me,” she accused. “Why would you help me?”

“Whether I hate you or not is immaterial. No one deserves this.” Truth be told, he wasn't sure he _did_ hate her. “Let me help you,” he reworded, telling himself if she declined that he wouldn't ask again.

He knew from experience, you can't save someone who refuses to be saved. He went back to his cauldron, when it became obvious she wasn't going to answer immediately, thinking about his mother and all those times his drunken father decided she looked like a good punching bag. When she killed herself while he was in his fifth year, he inherited that. He'd come home from losing the only friend he'd ever really had to having the snot beat out of him everyday that summer. It had not been a good year.

“You're dressed formally,” Petunia commented out of no where. “I mean, that _is_ formal. Right? Your people don't just walk around like that all the time?”

Severus frowned, looking down at his expensive dress robes and thinking that he probably should have changed into something else before starting this sticky concoction. He hadn't thought about it. “Yes,” he told her. “I was at a Christmas Ball.”

“And instead of wearing some stupid, disgusting sweater- you wear that?”

No doubt she was thinking about the party her parents threw every year around the Yule time, nasty eggnog, ugly jumpers, horribly inconvenient mistletoe, and people he only put up with because Lily's family was always so accepting of him. The last time he'd gone, he and Lily were each only a few weeks shy of fifteen. That was the only time he'd ever met Petunia's beau, but it was _Severus_ that got stuck under the mistletoe with her. He supposed he would rather have that than the Dark Lord.

“I said Christmas _Ball_. Not insane party. It was a very elaborate event and I can assure you, I was looked down upon for not dressing formally enough by people who have killed for far less.” He hadn't meant for that all to come out and her face paled into a milky white, then became slightly greenish. Severus matched her gaze. “ _They_ were Death Eaters.”

“I don't even know what that means,” she admitted, more to herself.

“I know,” he told her. “It's not a good thing, but I guess you were fairly accurate calling me that. Technically speaking, that is.”

It just needed to simmer now. Severus began cleaning up the work area, messy stations being a particular pet peeve of his. “If you hate it so much, why did you do it?”

He wasn't entirely sure of the answer. Because they were all he had? That made him feel weak. Because he had no other choice? That made him _sound_ weak. Because he had hoped _She_ would find out and be hurt by it? That made him petty.

“Just.... seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm not a good person, Tuney.”

“Sometimes,” she whispered. “Sometimes I don't think I am either.”  
  
*  
  
They said nothing more on the topic of her leaving Vernon, and a few minutes after they came to a comfortable stop in conversation- the Bruise Paste was finished. He jarred it and labeled it, gently handing it to her without a word. And without a word, but with an indescribable look, she left.

Christmas morning found Severus sipping his coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. Today. He was giving himself today to do what he liked, then tomorrow he was sending an owl to Albus Dumbledore on the Dark Lord's orders. It seemed like he couldn't escape either of them, the newspaper switching between reported disappearances and Albus Dumbledore being supported for a Minister of Magic position a blind fool could see the man didn't want. After skimming both articles, Severus tossed it aside with a rough sigh of exasperation.

He wondered if Petunia's holiday was going any better than his.

Almost as soon as the thought mysteriously appeared in his mind, his front door was thrown open and the girl in question came in- slamming the poor thing hard behind her. She'd obviously ran the entire way, patches of her blouse and trousers wet and dirty from where she'd fallen in her haste. Her chest was heaving, as though each gasp for breath was difficult, and she looked around frantically as though she expected someone following her.

“Do you realize how rude that is?” Severus asked incredulously, with no real bite. “To just barge into other people's houses. I know your parents. I know you were raised better than that. I could have been starkers!”

The tension in her face relaxed into a sort of amusement and Severus felt a deep, secret pride at having made her smile. Lily had done so far too easily, at everything, so it was hardly anything if you caused one. But Petunia he knew rarely really smiled, and it almost made him mirror it.

“I'm sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “Do you _usually_ walk around your house in the nude?”

“Well, no, but _you_ didn't know that, did you?”

She laughed then. Not a sweet, tinkling laugh like Lily, but a loud guffawing that he found infinitely more satisfying to hear. Then as it died, so did her smile. She came over to him where he still sat in his armchair and collapsed on the ottoman beside him.

“He proposed,” she didn't need to specify whom. “In front of my parents, and Lily, and that awful Potter boy. I-I couldn't think of what to say, so I just ran. Please, Severus. I'm scared. You have to help me.”

He didn't feel the normal indignation he would have felt at someone telling him he _had_ to do something. He just felt something akin to worry, and pity. But he would never tell her that. It warmed him to think she didn't like Potter anymore than he did. He knew what it was like to be avidly disliked by her, and the annoyance she was no doubt providing- served that Gryffindor right.

“He's not going to get to you here,” Severus said, standing up. “You can phone your parents and have them send him away. He's too much of a coward to stand up to them in their own home, much less come after you later.”

There was a knock at the door. Severus' pulse jumped and he imagined Lucius on the other side of it. Or perhaps Avery. Regulus, though the latter he was sure he could reason with. But if it were anyone else, they'd kill Petunia without a second thought. If they were feeling merciful.

“Quick,” he said in a quiet and firm voice. “Go into my room and lock the door. Don't come out until I come for you, no matter what you might hear.”

Petunia's eyes widened and she nodded. He was ecstatic beyond words that she didn't argue and he watched her disappear around the corner. He waited until he heard the gentle click of the lock through the silent house, before opening the door into green eyes that always made his heart pound harder.

“Lily,” he greeted in shock. Of course it would be her, chasing after her only sister who'd obviously been distressed. He would expect nothing less. But he wished it had been Lucius instead.

She was beautiful, just as beautiful as he remembered. Though, his memory really didn't do her justice. She was wearing a cream colored dress, most likely covered in warmth charms, and her hair was pulled back in a clip without a single strand out of place. She looked perfect. As she always did. But what his eyes were stuck on, was the diamond on her left ring finger.

“Severus,” she said back. “I'm looking for Tuney.”

There was a time, not too long before, where he might have not only _told_ her where her sister was- but _sang_ it in any language she requested, if she had so desired. Now, he felt a stubborn pride bubble up in him to refuse.

“Why would she be here?” He asked in a Slytherin drawl.

Lily's green eyes set into a hard determination. “I have no idea, but I know she is. What have you done with her?”

“He hasn't done anything to me.” Petunia was standing in the living room again, her arms stiff at her sides; despite it being obvious that she wanted to pick at her fingers or some other nervous habit. As he recalled, she chewed her nails shamelessly until her nail beds bled. Lily's nails were impeccable.

Lily forced her way past him and towards her sister. Severus sighed and let the door close on its own. “No,” he said in a flat tone. “Please, come in.”

“Everyone's been worried,” Lily said, her hands on her sister's arms. “What happened?”

“I-I just,” Petunia looked like she might tell her the truth, then she seemed to quickly change her mind. “I just got overwhelmed, Lily. Go home. Tell Vernon to leave and I-I don't wish to see him again.”

Lily's eyes widened and she looked confused. “What are you talking about, Tuney? Vernon loves you. Is this about what I said? I just want you to be happy.”

Petunia glared at her and crossed her arms in defense. “How self absorbed you are, to think your thoughts and opinions have anything to do with how I choose to live my life. It has nothing to do with what you said.”

Severus could have groaned. Petunia was just as contrary a person as he was, and with Lily agreeing with Petunia's actions- there was a fifty/fifty chance of Petunia going back to Vernon just so Lily didn't think it was her doing or that her opinion mattered.

“What is it then?” Lily asked, ignoring Petunia's comment. “And why would you come _here_? You and Sev hated each other.”

He tried to tell himself it was an accident, her calling him that after all this time, but he still felt a mild jump at it. Petunia couldn't explain why she'd come here without explaining why she refused to marry Vernon. Severus cleared his throat to get Lily's attention away from her.

“I _do_ have friends, Lily.”

She looked at him for a few beats before answering in a quiet, cold voice. “I know. That's part of the reason you and I aren't anymore.”

Her not so subtle jab at the other Death Eaters and Slytherins made him flinch the way he knew she had intended. What would they say if they knew he was claiming to be the friend of a Muggle? But Petunia looked so thankful when he said that, a look he hadn't really seen on her before, and he thought to himself that he could handle them.

“I don't remember asking you in,” he said.

Lily didn't move, staring back at him. “Are you telling me to leave, Severus?”

He clenched his jaw against asking her to stay, lifting his chin rebelliously. He was rebelling against his almost overwhelming urge apologize again about fifth year. Begging again that she give him a second chance to be her friend. Follow her around helplessly again when she said no. But, unfocusing his eyes to look _through_ her, he asked, “Do I need to?”

“What's going to happen,” she asked. “When your other _friends_ find out you're spending your time with a Muggle?”

“I hate that word,” Petunia said from behind her.

Severus looked up at her mildly. “In America they would call you a 'no-maj'.”

She nodded. “That does somehow sound less offensive.”

He sounded much more blasé than he felt about the situation, standing in front of Lily after all this time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this close to her. It didn't hold up the way he thought it would have. There was a distinct lack of desperation to be closer. Had he really been so pathetic?

“I will handle that,” he said quietly.

“See that you do.”

When she was gone, after a sad glance back to her sister, Severus relaxed his rigid frame. Petunia let out a relieved breath and smiled, a small smile that wouldn't be if it was on anyone else. Severus ran a hand over his face and looked around.

“What did she mean?” Petunia asked. “About your friends? Is it because of what you said earlier?”

He nodded. “I am... associated,” he refused to keep calling them friends, “with witches and wizards who believe that we are superior to those without magic. They would, if given the chance, _kill_ Muggles, and Muggleborns like Lily. Just for who their families are. In fact, there are those fighting for the ability to do just that.”

She looked like she was going to be sick, and he felt the same. “There is a war going on in the Wizarding World. And I chose the wrong side to be on.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I joined the Death Eaters. I was Marked.” Severus thought about something, rolling up his sleeve and showing her the Dark Mark. “If you ever see someone with this, run.”

She stared at it, blinking a few times. “Y-you _kill_ people?”

“I've never killed anyone,” he told her. “But I will be expected to.”

“But, you know it was a mistake. Why not just leave? That's what you've been telling me all along.”

Petunia stepped closer to look at the Mark better and Severus struggled with how to word what to say. “It's not the same,” he said. “They would hunt me down. Kill me. Kill anyone else they could. It's what they do.”

He wished he had known that a month ago. “Leave anyway,” Petunia told him. “Hide. Is there someone fighting back?”

So not only did Lily not mention the war to her family, but left out her involvement as well. “Yes. There is someone against him, but they hate me. They might kill me just to save the Dark Lord the trouble.”

Okay. So maybe that was exaggerating. Petunia gave him a look that told him she knew he was. He sighed. “I could. I've thought about it. But, I suppose I'm not doing it for the same reason you didn't tell Lily about Vance.”

“Vernon.”

“Like that's any better.”

“Lily is in it, isn't she? The opposing force. The good guys. And that awful Potter boy.”

He nodded, a small smile forming at her distaste for Potter. “Yes. Potter and his friends would never let it happen if I went to Dumbledore to switch sides. They don't think I'm anything more than a Death Eater, and they thought that before I was one.”

Petunia wrinkled her nose. “I'd join the Death Eaters just because of that.”

He just stared and she looked over with an expression that said she understood now. He had forgotten what understanding looked like on another person, much less aimed at him. But here she was with a surprising lack of judgment on her face.

“I'll go with you,” she said quietly. “Lily won't argue if I'm there. She'd make them listen at least. If I'm there, there's no way they could think you want to kill no-maj's. If you don't want to kill _me_ , then I doubt there's one you have more reason to hate.”

“I don't hate you.”

Her blue eyes turned to his black ones and she nodded. “Then that makes things much easier. Let's go to whatshisface.”

He smirked. “Dumbledore. I know you sent him a letter, how is it you could forget his name.”

“Lots of will power and determination.”  
  
*  
  
He was nervous, standing outside the Muggle coffee shop they'd chosen as the meeting place with Petunia beside him- pretending he wasn't. He had tried to convince her she really didn't have to come, and that she may regret it later depending on the things she might hear. But she had insisted, and he was glad for it. It was still cold, the day before New Years Eve, and she had her hand wrapped around his arm- standing closer than necessary for warmth. She was looking at him.

“Are we going to go inside,” she asked quietly.

Through the window, he could see the man they'd come to see- Dumbledore's back to them in an arrogant decision that Severus was glad for. He knew that it didn't stop Dumbledore from knowing they were there, but Severus was picky and distrusting enough to want to sit with his own back to a wall. That way, he would be able to see any threat coming and be able to get Petunia and himself away.

“Just, thinking about what to say,” he told her.

That was a lie. He had no idea what he was going to say. But he opened the door for Petunia and followed her through it into the warm cafe. He even held out the seat for her to sit down, surprising her, but he just wanted to leave the other for himself. Dumbledore had a cup of tea in front of him, and a folded up Muggle newspaper.

“Mr. Snape,” he greeted, glancing at Petunia with interest. “And Miss Evans. I admit to being somewhat surprised at your letter, even more so when you asked to meet somewhere Muggle. I see you had your reasons.”

Petunia's tiny nose, tiny enough to excuse her nasally voice, wrinkled at the term. Severus felt calmer upon seeing it and corrected Dumbledore. “No-maj,” he said. “Petunia hates the word 'muggle'.”

The older man- how old is this man, Severus briefly wondered- blinked at both of them in subtle surprise that it would take a Slytherin to see. Not for the first time, Severus doubted his Gryffindor past. “Indeed? My apologies, then, Miss Evans. I meant no disrespect.”

Petunia didn't smile at Severus, but there was a light in her eyes that both- thanked and encouraged him. He nodded at it, and looked to the headmaster who was watching them curiously. “It has become glaringly obvious, that I've made a mistake.”

“A mistake,” Dumbledore echoed, making him feel stupid as he nodded shortly.

What if they were both wrong? What if he was turned away? He couldn't blame him if he did. He had to think of this as a leader of the Light. Suppose Severus was the spy the Dark Lord wanted? Severus' palms suddenly began to sweat minutely and he wiped them absently on his trousers.

“I-I j-joined,” he stumbled over his words, terror of the man's rejection creeping into the corners of his subconscious. He licked his lips and a small, somewhat bony hand found his and squeezed. Petunia. He took a deep breath. “I joined them. I don't really have an answer as to why, but I did. I wanted to take it back as soon as it happened, but I can't.”

There was supposed to be a question in there somewhere, but now he was unsure of how to word it. How to ask the wizard in front of him for forgiveness... and sanctuary. He hadn't been in the Death Eater ranks long or deep enough to have any useful information. There was nothing he had that the man didn't, or couldn't acquire with minimal effort.

“You want to just... switch sides,” Dumbledore challenged. “Just like that. Why would I allow it if you obviously have no loyalty to speak of.”

Severus flinched. Loyalty. That wasn't true. He was loyal to people. He'd been loyal to Lucius for taking him under his wing, he was loyal to Professor McGonagall for unknowingly becoming the mother his own couldn't be, he was loyal to Lily who had been loyal to him first, and he was loyal to Petunia- for believing in him now after Lily turned him away.

“Loyalty doesn't have to apply to sides,” he said. “Mine lies with people. Your side happens to have more of them than my current prospect.” That sounded Slytherin.... and ridiculous. Yes, that was going to get Dumbledore to accept him. He sighed.

“I don't take joy in hurting people,” he tried again. “The thought of rape and torture makes me sick, I have no enthusiasm at the idea of murder, and I don't wish to watch others do these things. I joined them, knowing it was the wrong thing, because it was enough that they seemed to care about me. It was enough that they thought me worthy of protecting and befriending. It _stopped_ being enough when I watched friends delightfully butcher a no-maj girl, no more than seventeen.”

Petunia made a small, choking noise in the back of her throat and Severus glanced over to see her glassy eyes focusing hard on the table and not looking at anyone. He squeezed her hand though, and she squeezed back.

“How do I know that this is not a trick. It seems easy enough for you to enlist an old mug- my apologies, dear- no-maj friend to come support you as you attempt to spy.”

Severus opened his mouth to say something, but Petunia interrupted. “Isn't there some way you could see that he's telling the truth? I heard one of Potter's awful friends mention something called Legitimancy or something.”

Severus' head snapped to look at her with wide, incredulous eyes. She was suggesting that? Now if he refused it looked like he had something to hide. Sometimes, he thought she might have been sorted into Slytherin if she were a witch. Then she did something like this, and he was positive it would Gryffindor. But, that was insulting. Ravenclaw, then. They would have to discuss this eavesdropping of hers later.

Dumbledore's blue eyes, neither the jewels Pandora's were, nor the calming clear of Petunia's, twinkled back at him. “That depends,” he said. “Would Severus agree to Legilimency? It would be the only way I'd be comfortable in putting any faith in him.”

Severus would definitely be having a discussion with Petunia later, but he nodded his consent- vowing that after this he would learn Occlumency. He didn't even feel the man enter his mind, when he started seeing his memories flash around as if he were experiencing them again- even then, he got the feeling Dumbledore was only doing that as a courtesy. He easily could have done this without Severus even knowing he was there at all.

Snippets of the last month or two went by, the night he was marked, seeing Petunia the first time again, going back to give her the Bruise Paste, Lucius' carefully veiled threat in disguise of an invitation, Petunia calling him a Death Eater. He wasn't sure why, but it bothered him that Dumbledore was looking at his encounters with her. Those were private. He watched again, the events of the Christmas Ball, brewing for Petunia that night, and Christmas morning in its visit from both Evans sisters. With the scenes, came the flood of emotions with each separate one, and by the time Dumbledore slipped back out as easily as he'd entered.... Severus seriously thought he might sick up.

But he didn't, his eyes taking a moment to focus back to the man looking pleased with himself. Petunia looked confused, and slightly concerned. He nodded to her to tell her he was okay. It was unnerving, going from the harsh and sudden entry from the Dark Lord, to the gentle caress from Dumbledore. He almost wished it had been painful.

“Thank you,” the man said. “That does give me a better perspective.”

His eyes hovered between Severus and Petunia with a twinkling, as though he were using his eyes to follow an invisible line tying them together. They both followed the gaze to each other, confused, but then he smiled.

“Yes, the two of you should come to a meeting tomorrow night. We are discussing our guard and stationing. We will.... introduce you then.”

Severus felt both, a rush of relief, and a flood of dreading. No doubt Potter and his friends would be there. And Lily. “I will not be well received,” he informed the man. Though, he had to know that already. He was supposed to be the greatest wizard since Merlin, of course he knew, but Severus said it anyway.

“We can deal with that as it comes,” he said. “They may surprise you.”

Severus wondered if this was to be his punishment for switching sides of the war, to deal with Potter's gang and all the hell they would give him. He hadn't seen them since they left Hogwarts. He hadn't seen any of the Marauders or their entourage since leaving Hogwarts, except for the smallest Marauder- Pettigrew- only briefly near Knockturn Alley. He doubted that they had changed much.

Dumbledore stood up, stroking his long beard that was directly under his chin and looking thoughtful between the two of them again. “Well,” he said. “Tomorrow, I will be at your residence to escort the both of you. I wish you a well afternoon.”

Then he was gone. Severus was almost sure he had apparated, but there was no accompanying sound to indicate such and he vaguely saw the white of the man's hair through the large windows as he disappeared around the corner. He didn't move for a few minutes, having a similar feeling as he did the night he was marked. What had he just done? Except this time, it wasn't just him caught up in it, but Petunia as well. The headmaster had seemed very particular that she attend.

“I don't think you should come tomorrow,” he told her. “I don't like it.”

“He said for me to,” Petunia reminded.

“Yes,” he said. “That's why I don't like it.”

She frowned, but didn't say anything. He knew that she knew to be cautious of people, even people who claimed to be good, and he was glad that she wasn't arguing against his distrust. He felt like he distrusted everyone nowadays. He trusted Petunia. He hoped that she trusted him, though it was obvious she did if she had come to him for help on more than one occasion, and was helping him now.

“I want to come,” she said. “I... would like to see your world. I went to Diagon Alley once, at eleven, but I was too angry about his letter the second year to go. I stayed home for each trip after that. I liked that room, with all the pots. I liked watching you make that cream. I even sort of like watching people use magic.”

She paused. He watched her as she talked, watched her pick at runaway sugar crystals left behind on the table, watched her lips dance as they moved to form her words, and watched her eyes shift out of focus as her mind went off somewhere else. They shifted to him.

“I don't mean to be bitter,” she said in a hushed desperation for him to understand. “I don't want to be. I tell myself that I won't be, that I'll love my sister no matter what, and then I see her with her wand and I feel it seep back into my heart. I'm tired of the hating. I'm tired of the anger, and the jealousy, and I'm tired of the hate I feel at myself afterwards.”

He did, understand that is. He knew exactly what it felt like, the loathing bitterness she was describing. And he admired her for it. He hadn't realized before he said it to Lily, that they had become something like friends. He liked being her friend. He wanted to keep being her friend, and somehow, he knew she wouldn't leave like Lily had. So he smiled vaguely, and lightly covered her hand with his own, and nodded. She looked down at their hands and smiled back.

“Would you like to go to Diagon Alley?” He asked.

She looked confused. “What?”

But the idea of taking her there made him get excited, the prospect of maybe seeing her excited about it. “You said you hadn't been to Diagon Alley since Lily's first year. Do you want to go?”

Petunia turned her head slightly to the right to give him a strange, incredulous, and slightly wonderstruck expression. “What- you mean, today? Right now?”

He nodded and she started to smile, looking around as if to make sure he was really asking her. “Come on,” he said. “We're just a few streets away from the Leaky Cauldron. I can transfigure our clothing and I'll show you everything. I'm sure I could even take you to Hogsmeade.”

“Hogsmeade?” She asked, her smiled growing. “Isn't that near Hogwarts though? Would I be allowed?”

“Anyone in the magic world is allowed to go to Hogsmeade,” he told her, wondering to himself if that was true. “Anyway, no one has to know you're muggle. All you need is a set of robes, and I can do that.”

She glared somewhat at the term 'muggle', but started to grin. Not just smile, but truly a grin and he stared. He had hardly ever seen her smile, and he had never seen her grin. It brightened her face and made her look charming. He smiled too. “Let's go,” he repeated. “Come on.”

He stood up and led her out of the cafe by the hand, her nearly jogging to keep up with his long legs- her hand that wasn't wrapped in his on her beret to keep it from flying off. Her smile stayed on as he lead her through two streets, an alley, and to a third street to the Leaky Cauldron. They stopped there, in an alcove near it so he could change their muggle clothing. She looked hesitant at the blue robes he made from her pea coat, and even more so at the run down shack the Leaky Cauldron was from the muggle side, but he tucked her hand into his arm and they went inside anyway.

There were spoons stirring tea without help, chairs being put up on clean tables by themselves, and in the corner- a mop dancing the floor clean without a person to direct it. Petunia's hungry eyes took all of this in, widening and ready for more. Severus nodded to Tom before they left to the small courtyard to the hidden entrance. He pulled his wand out, which she both glared at and looked at longingly, and tapped the right sequence in the bricks- making them scramble over each other to open for him.

She didn't fall over herself at the sight the way some might have, but knowing her like he did, he knew she was ecstatic at seeing it. He let her lead him around, happy to stand back somewhat to explain what everything was. No, chocolate frogs aren't real frogs. Yes, they mean every flavor. Yes, people really flew on brooms and he could acknowledge the humor in that. No, it would not work for her, but he would take her flying one day with him if she wanted. She did. He'd almost entirely forgotten everything that had been plaguing his mind before, until he caught a face in Tomes and Scrolls while they were in there looking at magical creature books. (Yes, both werewolves and vampires were real.)

Severus quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her around a shelf and away from the man he had seen. But it was too late.

“Severus?” He clenched his eyes and then turned to his friend, the only one he would still wish to call that.

“Regulus. What brings you to Diagon Alley?” Severus asked, subtly keeping Petunia behind him.

But Reg wasn't stupid. Out of all of the Slytherins, he was the one Severus had always been closest to, but that had been before. Before they both took the mark and he was in position where he wasn't sure if this was Death Eater Regulus Black, or Severus' old friend Reg.

Regulus' eyes narrowed slightly and Severus' back stiffened. Stupid, he chastised himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid! So what if he had spoken to Dumbledore, so what if Dumbledore accepted him as an ally or something close to it- that didn't mean he was free from the Dark Lord. And he brought a Muggle into Diagon Alley. Not even a Muggle _born_. If Regulus was truly one of them, Severus wasn't sure what was about to happen.

Though, it was preposterous to imagine that Regulus _knew_ Petunia. Sure, he knew Lily from afar, but Lily and Petunia were vastly different people.

“Introduce me to your friend, Severus.” It _sounded_ like old Reg.

He couldn't exactly say no now. Though, he could play Petunia off as a cousin perhaps- from his mother's side of course- and they would leave immediately after. Severus stepped away and placed a hand on Petunia's arm to tell her it was alright.

“Reg,” he was careful to use his old moniker for him, hoping to invoke some old feelings of friendship despite the six months they hadn't spoken. “This is my cousin, Scarlet.”

He had no idea where that name came from. It just sort of blurted out. He wouldn't have put it past Regulus, old or new, to figure it out if he used her real name. Regulus didn't believe him, and it was obvious. He opened his mouth to say something....

“Regulus? Severus? How delightful.” _Why were all the Death Eaters here today?!_

The white blonde of Lucius Malfoy joined them, head held imperiously high, and hand grasping a new, perfectly polished walking cane that he didn't need. From knowing Abraxas Malfoy, Severus knew the head was attached to his wand- hidden in the unsuspecting cane.

His steely gray eyes landed on Petunia beside him and she and Severus both tensed in anticipation. “And who is this lovely creature?” He asked silkily, bowing to kiss her hand as was proper.

It took him a moment to realize he'd asked a question, but Regulus was quick with an answer- different from Severus' own. “Don't you remember Thomasina Kesher? She was in my year. Hufflepuff, unfortunately, but she's grown quite well. Has she not?”

Thomasina Kesher was indeed the name of a Hufflepuff in Regulus' year, Severus only remembered from their Sorting- finding it amusing how outraged Sirius Black was when his brother made Slytherin. She'd been a half blood from a long line of purebloods on her mother's side, with long pretty black hair and sharp eyes- whose color he couldn't recall. And anyway, Petunia's were prettier.

“Indeed,” Lucius agreed, nodding in appreciation.

It wasn't odd to him that she hadn't said anything. It wouldn't be. Lucius probably thought she was Imperious'd or Confunded. And she was neither pureblood, nor noteworthy enough for him to remember beyond perhaps a snip of a conversation where her name was mentioned. It made no difference who she was, and it was perfectly acceptable to pretend she wasn't there.

“I wish I could stay and chat, my friends,” Lucius continued, not sounding too upset, “but I've only come to retrieve a package Cissa ordered in Knockturn Alley. Black, your cousin is far too high maintenance than I'm sure she's worth.”

Regulus chuckled good-naturedly. “I did warn you before you married her, if you remember.”

“That you did,” the blonde conceded. “Well, I must away.”

Severus hadn't said anything, happy that Lucius hadn't called attention to him and Reg had talked for them all. None of the three moved until they watched their fellow Slytherin weave back through the bookshelves, and Regulus turned to him with a look of incredulity.

“Are you mad?” He asked in a near hysterical whisper. “Bringing a muggle to Diagon Alley?”

Severus couldn't resist the urge to look around to be sure they couldn't be overheard, quickly casting a silencing charm. “What are you talking about?”

“Don't play ignorant, Severus. It doesn't suit you and it insults my own intelligence.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Petunia looking back and forth between the two of them. No doubt she was remembering when he'd said something similar to her.

“Excuse me,” she glared at him. “I'm _right_ here.”

“Yes,” Reg said condescendingly. “That's part of the problem.” He turned back to Severus. “What were you thinking? It would be dangerous enough with _out_ being on the Dark Lord's mind, but after the Ball? Has the mudblood finally turned you into a Gryffindor?”

Severus snarled. “You _know_ how I feel about that word, Regulus.”

“And you know how the Dark Lord feels about muggles!”

“No-maj,” Petunia muttered insistently to herself.

“What?” Regulus snapped.

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes, obviously something he'd picked up on from Petunia. Nasty habit. “American wizards call it no maj. It sounds less offensive than muggle. She prefers that.”

Regulus looked at him like he'd just told him his favorite color was red and he was going for a cuppa with Potter and his groupies. “Tell me you're not together. Tell me you didn't trade Lily for her sister.”

“Of _course_ we're not together,” Petunia huffed.

Severus looked over at her, where she was looking at Regulus. He wasn't sure why it bothered him how she said that. Like there was no way she'd possibly be with him. What was wrong with him? He'd gone to Dumbledore. He'd been reintroducing her to the Wizarding World before they'd been interrupted. Was he so awful?

But he said none of this, looking at his old friend and hoping he still was. The other man sighed in defeat. “Alright,” he said. “Just...... okay. Severus, be careful.”

It suddenly struck him that Regulus was acting strange. “Reg, what's going on?”

He shook his head, looking around and making Severus copy the motion in paranoia. “It's the Dark Lord,” Regulus whispered, his voice wavering. “You weren't the only one he needed to speak to that night. He's- it's worse than anyone thought. I never- I couldn't have imagined-”

“Reg! You're not making any sense. What did he want?”

He could see the moment Regulus changed his mind on telling him, backing down and shifting his eyes around in fear. “I-I have to go.”

He walked away, the silencing wards falling as he walked through them. Severus watched him go, his attention returning to the obviously confused Petunia. She was looking up at him with too wide for her face eyes, full of trust without an ounce of doubt. Had Lily ever looked at him with so much conviction?

“Let's get out of here,” he said, grabbing her arm gently and disapperating them away.   
“I'm sorry,” he told her once they were back at Spinner's End. “I didn't mean for any of that to happen. It was a stupid idea.”

It was. Stupid. What had he been thinking? He hadn't been thinking. He'd been bewitched. That was the only excuse he could think of. But she turned to him with a light still in her eyes.

“Sorry?” She asked. “That was amazing! Your friends were rude, but that one- was is Regulus, you said?- seemed okay, if a bit odd. Did you see that shop? The flowers in the window just _grew_. Just like that! And the candy!”

Severus knew that she knew how close they'd been to disaster. She knew enough for that. But, despite her usually negative attitude, she was focusing on the bit prior to running in to the two other Slytherins.

“Different than the candy here?” He asked, urging her to go on.

“Are you joking?” She countered excitedly. “I've never seen so many. Did you see the licorice bows? Or the chocolate frogs?”  
  


*  
  
The next morning, though to him it may as well have been late night, he was still awake and staring at his stained ceiling. His arms were propping his head up and he was trying to chase away the images of Petunia and the looming Order meeting with sleep. Damned Insomnia. Paranoia and war were awful for ones health and he found himself, around four in the morning, deciding to give up and go make a spot of coffee. He still had hours to wait until Dumbledore showed up to take he and Petunia to wherever the meeting would be held. He could only imagine what Gryffindor idiot was playing host to Dumbledore's cause.

He'd already drank half the pot and read the entire Daily Prophet when there was a shrill, ringing sort of sound that echoed around the house. It made Severus jump, spilling his lukewarm caffeine and glare at nothing. What on earth was making that horrid sound? He followed the sound through to his sitting room and felt silly. He wasn't sure why the muggle telephone was still turned on, much less how it was still working with all the magic, but he would definitely have to put a fix to that.

Severus frowned, awkwardly picking the phone up and holding it to his ear. “Hello?” He asked cautiously.

“I was wondering if you were awake,” a voice said on the other line.

Severus immediately relaxed, not having realized he'd tensed. “Well if I wasn't before, I certainly am now. The sun hasn't even risen, why are you calling?”

The voice got audibly more confident at that and she responded dryly. “I was thinking to myself how friendly and approachable you are and I wondered if you were always like that or I was just lucky enough to catch you at good times.”

Severus smiled, not remembering the last time he'd used this telephone thing. It had been before Hogwarts, he knew that, but he thought it might not be so bad. “Are you having trouble sleeping?” He asked.

“Of course not,” she scoffed, as if the idea were ridiculous. “I like getting up early.”

“I see. And that's why you didn't even try to sleep in your bed?”

There was a pause and shuffling and he could tell she was looking around to see if he was watching. He laughed, knowing he'd hit the nail on the head. “If you must come over,” he said in a somewhat snarky tone, “I suppose you may, but I'm not feeding you. There are laws about feeding wild animals, you know.”

“Right there with not feeding the homeless man off of Haversham too, I suppose. He might follow you home and you'd never get rid of him.”

Then the line dropped, and it took until there was a knock at his door for him to realize she'd hung up. He would admit that it had been some time since he'd visited the muggle world outside of his neighborhood. He might have to. He refused to remain ignorant of such things, even if he'd decided to leave that world.

She looked exhausted, was the first thing he noticed. Her clear, watery blue eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, surrounded by dark circles. She obviously hadn't bothered to dress or do her hair, only throwing snow boots on and a heavy, male winter coat over her nightgown. He knew it was her father's coat. It was probably the first one she'd seen to grab on her way out the door.

“Are you going to let me in, or are we going to stand here until whatshisface comes to retrieve us?”

Severus smirked, leaning against his door jam. He knew she had to be cold. “I haven't decided. Perhaps we could discuss literature, maybe swap wild stories. I defeated a werewolf once, you know.”

Actually, he had been in his human form and his back was turned, but it still counted with technicalities. Her eyes lit up slightly at the mention of a werewolf, but then she mock glared at him instead, pushing past him and into his warm house.

A month or two ago he would never have thought of it as warm. It had been a place, nearly an abandoned place, that he found any excuse he could to get away from. Now, it seemed to brighten with the flux in company he'd kept. Even if the only real company he seemed to have on a regular basis was just as surly and bad tempered as he was.

“So,” Petunia said once he re-entered his kitchen. She was sitting on his counter looking at his Daily Prophet. “What's for breakfast?”

“What makes you think I'm feeding you?” Severus asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a cart of eggs. “Are you still allergic to grape?”

She hummed her response, her eyes still roving hungrily over the morning paper and its moving pictures.

“Get off of my counter,” he demanded. “I make food there. You're contaminating it.”

Petunia smirked and hopped down, putting the paper back on the table and coming over to watch him cook. It was only eggs, and toast with _currant_ jam instead of grape, but she watched his hands move with an almost fascinated light in her eyes.

“Lily was there last night,” she told him.

An egg fell to the floor, breaking and splattering yoke. He almost pulled his wand out to clean it up, but thought that it might be a bit insensitive, and went to find a cloth.

“Oh?” he asked in a way he hoped sounded nonchalant.

“She asked me to stay away from you.”

Severus expected a stab of hurt to, well, stab him, when she said that. But he felt nothing more than the startle of Petunia saying her name. Somehow, he didn't care anymore. He cared. Of _course_ he cared, but it no longer seemed to burn him- the mention of her name. Right now, perhaps she was with Potter and his posse. Maybe they were insulting Severus. Maybe she was joining in, or smiling at one or two of their comments. He could even envision the smile that she might give them; perfect, sweet, and amused. Severus found, with only a slight bit of surprise, that he much preferred Petunia's crooked smirk.

“Severus!” Petunia scolded, moving him harshly aside with her hip and taking the pan from him. “You're going to burn them!”

He let her take over the cooking, moving on to make the toast. It was oddly domestic, the two of them cooking breakfast together. It was pleasant. It was achingly, wonderfully normal. While they ate, however, there wasn't the normal family talk one might have of news or politics. More, they were bickering over his house.

“It looks like a wreck in here,” she told him.

“ _You_ look like a wreck,” he countered defensively.

She gave him a look that reminded him of her mother when he and Lily had been out too long. “What's so wrong about spiffing things up a bit? Maybe repaint, get new furniture, move.”

“Move?” He asked, catching on to that part. “What do you mean move?”

Petunia shrugged. “It's an old house. It's falling apart, with _out_ the need of paint or better furniture. There's mold-”

“I can use it in my potions,” he said.

“The roof over your living room is caving in.”

“I never have company anyway,” he told her with a shrug.

“Your stoop is in danger of collapsing.”

Severus sighed, setting his fork down. She mirrored it. “So you want me to move away.”

It wasn't a question. But she answered. “Don't be like that. That's not what I'm saying.”

That reminded him much of something Lily had said before, when she scolded him for defending himself against Black and Potter. He threw himself away from the table, standing suddenly enough that his chair toppled over.

“Then what _are_ you saying, Petunia,” he asked her testily. “Because I'm afraid I don't understand.”

“Let's find a place together,” she returned, just as strong and confronting as his own tone.

Severus stared at her and blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing. “What-what do you mean?”

Petunia sighed, standing up and moving their plates to the sink. “I _mean_ ,” she said, “that your house is falling apart around you. I have some money saved up, and I was thinking about finding a job at a library or something. Maybe I want to be a teacher. And you need to find a new place too. It makes sense, with Dumbledore obviously wanting to include me in your affairs that we find one together. Be flatmates. It-it isn't proper, but it's-”

“What's wrong?” He asked suddenly.

She was scrubbing too hard at a plate that didn't need it, and the water was too hot. She was scalding herself. Petunia stopped, but didn't remove her hands from under the burning faucet or look at him. “Vernon was there last night too. When I got home, he was talking to my parents and Lily about me. How much he loved me and wanted to marry me. He-he asked again.”

Severus was going to kill him.

“Why didn't you come here?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“It was late at night,” she reminded him in a low whisper, as though she were afraid someone were listening. “It wouldn't have been right!”

“You're not stupid,” he told her. “You know what people will think if you and I moved in together, whether it was true or not.”

She nodded and shrugged. “Maybe it will make Vernon back off. And, I don't care what anyone thinks.”

He scoffed, moving to pace his small kitchen. “You sure seemed to care yesterday,” he said resentfully. He knew he sounded petulant.

Petunia frowned, looking over at him. “What are you on about now?”

“ _'Of_ _course_ _we're not together_ ',” he recited from the day before, “isn't that what you told Regulus? Am I such a monstrous person that you would say it so forcefully?”

“You prat! I thought I was helping you,” she said, in just below a yell. “And besides, we're _not_ together.”

“Well maybe I want to be!”

Severus stopped cold, glancing over to where she stood- in her nightdress, boots, and her father's coat- looking back at him with wide eyes. He hadn't meant to say that. He hadn't even thought it, hadn't considered it, until it was out of his mouth and he got a bit of clarity about it. He _did_ want to.

Petunia opened her mouth to say something but he cut her rejection off before she could get it out. “You should leave,” he said abruptly.

She looked as though he'd slapped her. “W-what?”

“Go away,” he reworded, turning away so he didn't have to look at her. He didn't hear the heavy boots on the floor, but he heard the door slam. And he heard his own disappointed sigh follow it.   
  
*  
  
The sun was going down when she came back, properly dressed with her customary pea coat and beanie. Her hair was wind blown, whisps of it stubbornly in her face that was pale aside from rosy cheeks and a red nose. Her mouth was parted as she breathed, making puffs in the cold. It took Severus' own breath away.

She didn't say anything to him, pushing past as she always did into his house that- unlike that morning- didn't seem warm anymore. Neither of them said anything, with a tension between them that felt familiar as it used to be.

“Is it because of her?” She asked him finally.

He frowned, not having taken his eyes off of her since she arrived. She hadn't looked at him once. “What do you mean?”

Petunia spun around to face him, her cheeks still red and her eyes narrowed. “I mean is this about Lily? Are you only friends with me for Lily? Are you only wanting to be with me because you can't her? Is this about _her_?”

“Of course it's not about her,” he said harshly. “I haven't even thought of her. If that's what you think why are-”

“Stop it,” she whispered. “I had to ask. I know that's what everyone else thinks. Your friend even brought it up himself, didn't he? He asked if you'd traded her for me. I had to hear it from you that that wasn't it.”

“Oh.” Severus didn't know what else to say. “Did you still want to look at places?”

Petunia shook her head. “No.”

“Oh.”

“I already found one.”

“Oh?”

She smiled. “Plus,” she said. “Considering the change to our relationship, it seems less improper than it did this morning.”

She didn't have to explain what she meant, and she wouldn't have had time anyway. There was a throat clearing and they both turned to see Albus Dumbledore in Severus' living room, dressed in purple velvet robes with silver stars.

“I do hope I'm not interrupting anything,” he said in a way that told them he knew he was.

“Do you just, pop up, in peoples' homes?” Petunia asked. “Without invitation? That's quite rude.”

He bowed his head to her. “My apologies, Miss Evans. I did not realize I would offend you so.”

Severus only just resisted from telling the man that his presence probably offended her, and from Petunia's expression he knew he'd be right, but instead stepped closer to her. “Where are we going?”

Dumbledore only smiled indulgently at them. He wasn't going to say. “I'm afraid I can't tell you that. However, you will obviously be there and able to deduce where you think we are. Are you both all set?”

Petunia answered for them. “We're ready.”

The headmaster walked towards them and held his arms out for either of them to take. Severus felt a bit of pride at Petunia looking at him for the okay to take it. He nodded, grabbing the other man's arm at the same time she did. In a wink, that Severus didn't feel so much since his Apparation license, they stood in front of a large manor that could put Lucius' to shame. The front door was open and there were lights on each of the three floors. Without waiting for them, Dumbledore began to walk towards it with an air of imperiousness Severus had come to associate with him. Beside him, Petunia grabbed Severus' shoulder to steady herself- looking pale and green at the same time.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she said, nodding to the headmaster who was disappearing into the house. “Come on.”

When they entered, with Petunia's hand on Severus' arm, Dumbledore was telling the people there about a man from the Death Eaters who had defected and was prepared to help the Order. It was just as silly a name as 'Death Eaters', Severus thought. The Order of the Phoenix. He could see Potter and his delinquent friends there, with Lily at his side. There were also two people he could guess were Potter's parents. So that's where they were.

Severus knew the moment the Marauders noticed his presence, standing in the door way to a parlor. Lupin saw and nudged Black, who immediately jumped up on the defensive side.

“Snape! What are you doing here?”

“Ah,” Dumbledore said, as though he'd forgotten, “Mr. Snape, Miss Evans, please join us.”

Lily's head snapped to the two of them, her notoriously green eyes widening. “Tuney?”

Petunia's hold on Severus' arm tightened, but neither of them moved besides that.

“Severus and Petunia came to me yesterday morning. Severus had taken the Mark, and saw what Voldemort was capable of, and came to me for a way out. He has agreed to spy for us.”

“Of course he did,” Potter scoffed, glaring at Severus. “And under Voldemort's request no doubt. How do you expect us to believe anything he's said?”

At his master's name, Severus' Mark made itself known and he tensed at the pain in his arm. Only Petunia seemed to notice, tightening her comforting grip on his arm and looking up at him with slight worry. Severus ground his teeth for half a moment before glaring back at Potter, but it was Petunia who spoke for him- her blue eyes turned cold.

“You vile boy!” She snapped, causing everyone else aside from Severus to blink at her in surprise. “Severus has come to help your cause, despite knowing the welcome he would receive. How dare you act so sanctimonious! Hold your tongue before you let slip the emptiness between your ears, you- you blagskite!”

There was a pregnant pause in the parlor as everyone looked at her with wide eyes, Severus included and he thought to himself that he'd have to ask her later what exactly a blagskite was. Her chest was heaving, her lips were pursed, and Severus could barely keep his grin from his face; knowing that if he _did_ grin, she would just as soon turn the anger towards him.

“You're a muggle,” James said. “Do you know what people like him _do_ to muggles? And yet you show up here on his arm as though _we're_ the enemy. He's a Death Eater, and that's all he'll ever be.”

“And you're just a bully,” Severus replied. “I wonder now, how you and your disciples will entertain yourselves without people to terrorize.”

“That is enough,” Dumbledore decided, announcing it in his rumbling voice- despite having seemed perfectly content to watch the bickering until Severus became involved. “Severus is here with my approval and trust, and I ask that whilst we are here you respect that. Please, Mr. Snape, have a seat.”

Severus and Petunia made their way through the violently silent stares to an empty love seat, coincidentally near the Marauders, but they ignored them. When they sat down Lily tried desperately to get her sister's attention, calling her that childhood moniker, but Petunia only faced where Dumbledore was- her hand grasping Severus' too tightly for strength.

Once having everyone's attention again, Dumbledore smiled at them. “I understand this is quite a shock, but I assure you I trust Mr. Snape as much as I trust anyone else in this room. I wish to stress that I would be very disappointed to hear of any baiting of either he or Miss Evans, both of whom are under my complete protection.”

Severus didn't quite expect that, but wasn't going to say anything against that- only just resisting the urge to smirk at those Marauders. And Lily. Petunia's grip tightened, a comfort, and he tightened back. They were doing this.   
  
*  
  
At Severus' house later that evening, he and Petunia were making plans to meet the next day to look at the place she had found, and he found himself flooded with anxiety. They were moving in together. Two months ago, he wouldn't have two words to say to her that weren't insulting, and now they were moving in together, joining a war movement, and holding hands as he walked her out wondering to himself if he should offer to walk her home. He decided against it, deciding that it had been a long day and they both had much to think about.

She'd given him a lot to think about.

“I'll come over in the morning,” she said as they reached the front door. “And we'll go over from here.”

“Sounds logical,” he said. _Sounds logical_ , he mocked himself in his head. Merlin, he sounded like a blagskite. “What is a blagskite?”

A perfect red stain bled into her cheeks and she pursed her lips hard. “I-I don't know really. Father says it when he's talking to the telly, and well, I tried to look it up once but the only thing I can gather is maybe it's a variation of blatherskite; which refers to a person being foolish and talking nonsense, possibly without vowels.”

She looked down and hunched her shoulders. “I'm being a bit of one now, aren't I? I've been told I-”

Severus cut her off, taking her face in his hands the way he'd seen it done, and lowering his mouth to hers. She stopped talking, stopped breathing if he heard right, and kissed him back. He hadn't realized how tense he was until she did and he relaxed. He wasn't sure where this bravery was coming from. This was something some Gryffindor would do, put his heart out like this. Severus should know better.

But she wasn't pulling away.


End file.
